Ironheart
by Infinite Finale
Summary: "And there was us… an' there was always Gilneas."
1. Prologue

**Ironheart;  
**_Prologue  
_"_And there was us… an' there was always Gilneas."_

* * *

Eleven years ago to the day, Gilneas was sweltering. The unnatural heat wave had oozed over the land like a wet and humid blanket – and to all accustomed to the rain and chill they had next to no idea on what to do about the change. Windows had been thrown open to let in the air, and noble ladies dressed in their lightest attire without showing too much in the way of skin or immodesty. Peasant children ran naked through the streets to step in puddles caused by the night's rain and a lazy state of content had all but descended on the nation. It was if all had become one – like a river running slowly through the plains.

Of course, even with the heat there was no need to neglect the call of the light, and most of the populace slugged their way to the various churches to pay their respects and send off their prayers. These two were no exception. Two children dressed in their Sunday best – he with his thick woolen tunic and slicked hair to expose the sweat on his brow and she with a violent pink dress two sizes small – they were odd as odd could be. Yet they relished in it. He was a nobleman of a small house; obtaining some wealth but far from the reaches of the inner court. She… well she was as poor as one could almost go.

"Wot? Scared o' a little adventure, Bel? Come on! No one is eveeeen going to notice we left," Catil began, tugging down on her best friend's sleeve. The boy rolled his eyes and tried to puff his chest out importantly – all while trying to ignore the fact that her tugging down on his clothes was starting to give him a rash from the heat.

"It's not that I'm scared. I just know that my Mum is skin the both of us if we get caught. You saw how angry she got last time. I'm not ending up as a throw rug!" he countered. Catil crossed her arms over her chest, her eyebrow rising comically higher on her forehead.

"Uh huh –which means you're scared."

"I'm not scared!"

"Oh yeah? Prove it!"

These two children where as thick as thick could be. Like a pair of socks or salt and pepper shakers; one could simply not exist without the other, despite their differences. Today was no exception. She would stand there and point at his "obvious" fear, stating that he would be nothing but a big baby if he did not come with her. He would try to rationally convince her otherwise, before giving up and following along with her plans only because it was easier to amuse her than to endure her wrath.

"Catil, it's the wall. The Greymane Wall. You know that thing everyone tells you stay away from?" Belvet would respond, his voice low so there was a little possibility of people hearing them. He grabbed the girl's arm to shuffle her to the side, flashing a bright smile at the passersby before returning that stern expression back the auburn haired female. "Suppose we got to the wall then. What after that? We scale it, we look over and we pat each other on the backs going 'good work chaps' and go home. Is that really that exciting?"

"That," Catil began, reaching up to flick Belvet rather harshly on the nose. She grinned wickedly, her tongue poking through the gaps caused by the loss of her baby teeth, "is the reply o' a scaredy-cat. I though ya were noble, Bel. Y'know, standin' tall and proud against all odds? Isn't tha' how you guys go' there in the first place?"

"I'm not scared!"

* * *

The sun had begun to set the afternoon they climbed the wall. To say that they thought they would escape such an adventure unharmed was an understatement. Catil's dress had torn, her hair was mangled and it was obvious she had been doing things that she knew her parents would not approve of. Belvet had left his jacket on a tree near the wall which he would come to find missing when he was gone. Upon getting home, the mark left on his bottom by his mother would be quite severe, but for the moment even he seemed not to care for consequence.

"Well this is freakin' borin', huh?" Catil said, leaning over the top of the wall to peer around the ivy that had slowly began to creep its way up and into the cracks of its foundation. "I expected maybe some kind o' wasteland, y'know? Maybe some kind o' scourge attack or somethin'. All those things ya hear in stories!"

"And why would you want to see that?" Belvet countered, leaning up against the stonework rather awkwardly. His eyes darted around him, as if he expected danger, but he did not try to openly show his fear. "That's why the wall was built – to keep out the danger. You wouldn't see it here, but a few days ride? I bet you would. It wouldn't be spiders or bears either, Catty. You know that."

"Yeh? And ya don't think we couldn't take it on?" Catil turned, placing her hands on her hips as her brown eyes trailed over her best friend's skinny form. "You and me, Bel, we coul' do it! Imagine tha' somethin' happened and we left. Your magic and my… well harvest witchin' is pretty shit, but my powers too – we could do it! Do you see it?"

And Belvet just shook his head, the way that Catil expected him too. But he smiled regardless, as if he knew that by making the motion it would please her somewhat. He pushed himself off the stone and stepped forward to look over the wall, out to the setting sun before them.

"Yeah. I bet we could," he finally replied, his hand reaching out to catch Catil's calloused one. "Although you'd be getting into fights with everyone in every way you could. I'd have to be the dignified one and get you out of trouble."

"There wouldn't be any trouble! I'd punch 'em out!"

They'd laugh then - innocent children naïve of the world and oblivious to the looming danger. While years and years away, the signs had begun. And they, even with the excuse of youth, ignored it.

"Yeah, well, let's just hope you don't do that. We'd end up in the stocks."

"Well as long as we don' end up out o' the wall we'll be sweet, yeh?"

Belvet just chuckled once again and squeezed his best friend's hand, slowly pulling her away from the wall. "C'mon. It's getting dark. Reckon my Mum will cook us potatoes when we get home?"

"She better! She knows they're my favourite!"

* * *

"_If I had known then? Fuck, I would'a done anythin' I could to preserve us. That day was anticlimactic, but it was the start o' everything. We… we were perfect then – Bel 'n I. Untouchable. So we thought; so we believed. The day we left th' wall. Nah, we were screwed from that day. It's funny y'know? You never see until it's too fuckin' late."_

* * *

**Author Notes: **Yay! New story time. c: This little baby is based of my character Catil who is based in Moon Guard Alliance. I had to remake her recently because of OOC gaming issues, but she's my nearest and dearest. This is her history.  
Names may/will be changed because I don't want to be accused of taking people's characters as my own. Though I only claim to know Kit-Cat.  
Enjoy!


	2. Storm Born

**Ironheart**  
**Storm Born**

* * *

"_The day the curse hit? Well it was raining buckets down on ol' Gilneas. It was like whatever god was there looked at us and said, "fuck you mongrels; m'just gonna piss on you" so he aimed his dick and did. You literally could not see inches in front of you. It was scary as shit. You'd be kiddin' yourself if ya thought otherwise – or ya were a liar. You acted tough, sure – 'cause what else was there t'do? You scream and cry and you'd attract 'em. S'what Bel and I learned._

_Worgens – tha' curse o' all curses. Ya heard all 'bout the rumours o' people gettin' mangled, but did you believe 'em? You thought it was murders, no' cursed humans. That sort of shit? Fuck off – tha' was stuff that happened beyond the wall. So you'd chin up, button up your shirt and stand in the rain listenin' to people above you rant that you were safe."_

* * *

"We protected Gilneas from the Scourge; we protected Gilneas during the Northgate Rebellion! We will protect Gilneas from whatever this new threat may be!"

The wind whipped violently around the city, taking away most of the princes' voice before he could even begin to speak. Surrounding him where the once proud men and women of the Gilneas army – now nothing more than a pack of children only trained to deal with large, dangerous animals and the threat of a small rebel invasion. This fear that clutched them made them flighty and undisciplined and it seemed only a few who could even hear their leader seemed intent on listening. The rest fidgeted in their posts and looked nervously around for reassurance from the civilians. They got none.

For it wasn't that no one cared, it was simply that no one had an expectation of the threat that loomed over them. No one, not even the generals and the King, could have foresaw such an invasion or a means to deal with it. The wall was their expectation and their strength. Most of the Gilnean population kept their heads down – with a lucky few huddled under umbrellas and awnings in the street. The rest tried to battle the cold and rain, where the fierce wind would whip at their faces and skin until they were raw. All around, no one seemed to be in a good mood.

Catil was no exception. She was soaked from head to toe, her auburn hair plastered to her tanned skin and rolling off the boiled leathers that served only to keep her dry and warm when the water wasn't seeping in through the edges. She shuffled in formation with the rest of the harvest witches, having been called into the city when the danger seemed too much for them to linger out. They weren't even able to change – and so the woman's attire was stained with dirt and plant matter. She was almost indistinguishable against the rest of the brown.

"They say they're closin' up tha city 'cause of the murders," a man beside her whispered. All those who could hear him craned their necks to listen, hoping to catch snags of the information he carried. "They say s'not people anymore. Certainly no' an animal, either. They think… they think it might be some kind o' disease. Turns people rabid –"

"Rabid? Ha! You've spent too long in th' sun, luv," a woman near him countered. "I 'eard rumours tha' it's an invasion. They're closin' us up so they can defend the outskirts."

"Could it be demons? Scourge?"

Catil just rolled her eyes and attempted to pay them no mind, her teeth gnashing together as she peered through the thick rain. As she did so, she spotted a man waving frantically from beyond the crowd, attempting to jump over the mass of people so she'd see, and in turn making the umbrella he tried to hold over his head useless. Despite the wind carrying his voice away, she could still read the words on his lips.

"Catil! Kit-Cat! Over here!" He'd gesture towards him, and the woman would just shake her head and begin to barge through the mass of people around her. The amount of names called to her was charming, but they seemed to fly right over her head as she made her way towards him. Once she was in range, she'd find her shoulders draped in what appeared to be a fine woolen jacket. Ever the gentlemen dear Belvet was.

"What's goin' on?" Catil would then ask, not in the mood for pleasantries when it came to her best friend. The man would just shrug and raise a hand to his beard, his fingers threading through the thick ginger hairs.

"Not a clue. They're sparing you most of the details, obviously. People are talking about monsters and whatnot, but I'm not inclined to believe them if I can help it," he began, pointedly ignoring the over the top moan that Catil made as he seemed to point out their sharp class differences. "I can't help it, Cat. I wanted to get out of the city and that's what they told me. Anyway, they said that your troop was the last in before they closed the gates. No one gets in and no one can get out." He raised his head upwards to the last of the people flowing in, his eyes darting over their faces. "I suppose you didn't see my parents…?"

"Nu-uh, jus' us poor blokes," Catil replied, drawing the jacket tighter around her body. She seemed not to notice the concerned look that the man gave and her "comfort" would do little more than rouse him. "I wouldn't worry, Bel. Wha'ever it is, m'sure your parents can barricade the house and hope for the best, yeh? Your dad owns a gun –"

"I think he's going to need more than a gun," whispered Bel, mostly to himself. Catil would give him a look, to which he'd shrug and attempt to tug the umbrella down before it turned inside out and expose them to the rain. "Come on. The closer we get into the city the safer we'll be."

"Assumin' the threat hasn't gotten to the middle then we're fucked."

"Yeah, well, we have to hope for the best. Let's go."

The two left the outside gate without a hitch; most, if not all, the guards ignoring Catil when in the presence of Bel. It was always something the woman despised; how easy it was for people to forgo their opinion of her when around a nobleman. Belvet didn't seem to mind either way – people were always nice to him. Catil tried to tell him that was because he was nobility, but it seemed even then people just liked him. No one liked her except for him. That was another of their sheer contrasts. Yet with his arm wrapped around her to keep her near and under the protection of the umbrella, people just passed them by with nods and questions about their health and gossip of events.

"So wha's the getup for, hm? You're lookin' pretty… smashing?" Catil asked, trying to imitate someone within Bel's class. The man just sighed and rolled his eyes, reaching up to ruffle the back of her hair. Catil would growl as she tried to flatten it.

"Pleasing the parents, if you must know," he began, a small smile crossing his face. "I had to meet up with some people and get supplies for home. Mum wants to start gardening again now that her health has improved. I said you could probably help her –"

"Help her? Ha! Your mother wouldn't want help fro' me as far as she coul' throw me from the house," Catil interjected, forcing another sigh to leave her best friends lips. "M'serious! She hates me!"

"She doesn't hate you, Cati. She thinks your free spirited, al biet a little too wild for her. She admires you." Again the ginger haired man would ignore the scoff that left Catil's lips, dropping his hand from her shoulder as a small band of solders approached them. Their faces were grim.

"Lord Maxwell, it is unwise to traverse further into the city. They're advising most people to stay indoors. I'm sure someone in the city could offer you lodgings until we've located the danger…?" The middle guard began. The man next to him stared at Catil, to which she'd glare back. After all the years, one would think that she'd get over the judgmental stares that were thrown when she spent time with Bel, but it still pissed her off. There was this boy, she thought, one who was probably nothing more than a pig farmer or apple picker, was passing his criticism on her simply because a couple years in the army would give him a fancy title and the right to pick up a middle class girl to fuck. Cute, but when the worst anyone in the Gilnean army had seen for twenty years was some rebels and the occasional wild bear, she was pretty sure she was on par with the amount of "danger" he had seen in the fields. What was going on now, if it was as bad as people claimed… yeah, she was sure he was going to piss himself.

It was that moment that Catil was going to open her lips to give him a piece of her mind – speaking right over Belvet as he tried to negotiate, as always – that a feral noise ripped through the Gilnean market. So loud it was that many were forced to cover their ears and moan in pain and others looked around alarmed for the source of the noise. For it wasn't the sound of an animal dying or being hurt. It was the sound of something large; something dangerous… and it was angry.

"Th' fuck was tha-"

"CATIL!"

The woman would then suddenly find herself crashing to the ground, her body landing on the slick cobblestone street below. The stones were still enough to cut at her skin, opening shallow grazes that would have her howling in pain as another form crashed on top of her. Trying to process what had happened; she would swear loudly and try to push herself to her feet, only to have the form on top of her press down to keep her to the freezing, wet ground.

"Stay down," The voice would hiss, to which Catil would quickly register as Belvet's. Her eyes widened in alarm, though his sudden shift in tone would be the lesser of the shocks that would begin that night. Another vile shriek would tear through the air near them, followed by a sickly gurgle and the dull thump as something large landed next to the girl. Even in the rain, the sickly sweet smell of blood oozed around her, mixing with the water to give a gruesome hue to her copper skin.

She came face to face with the boy that had stared at her only moment ago. Instead this time his stare was unintentional – vacant, yet horrified – as his very throat had been ripped from his skin. Catil could feel the buildup of bile in the back of her throat and began to choke as she tried to shuffle away from it. This would continue only until she saw the figure looming over him, and she stopped dead.

Not a man yet certainly not a beast she knew of – this creature stood at over seven feet in height. Wolf-like… that was all she could gauge from it. Its fur had been slicked down from the rain yet it seemed less than bothered by it. It's large, bat like ears flicked back and forth to pick up sound before it would bend over on its haunches to grab at its kill. The creature seemed to almost play with it – like a child to her doll – shaking the body before discovering its death and throwing it away. The man's corpse would slam against the brick of a house, smashing his skull to pop his eyes from his sockets before sliding limply to the floor. If one was to look closely, they would find his brain matter beginning to leak from a crack in his head.

All the while this was happening Catil lay there in shock, barely registering as Belvet tried to discreetly pull her to her feet. They were not the only ones that noticed. Seeing the guard's death and the Wolf-beast's appearance, the people of Gilneas were thrown into disarray. Screams echoed through the city and people began to push on one another to get out. If the beast wasn't enough of a threat, the thought of getting crushed could easily be justified as just as bad.

"Catil, come on! We have to move!" The woman's arm was grabbed, and she'd make motions to hold on to Bel's jacket as he hauled her to her feet. It was good timing, too. As soon as she was up, her sudden animation seemed to hold great interest for the beast. His red eyes would dark to her own, and both she and Belvet looked on in horror as it dropped down on all fours to begin to lunge.

"Run. RUN!" Catil screamed, grabbing Bel's hand and turning down the street.

* * *

_Tha' was the first time I saw a man die… before tha' it was always animals or plants. Ya see a cow or a sheep die a millions times, but a man? Nah, luv, that shouldn't 'appen. In such a way, too – now that's the digustin' part. War would bring it out, sure, but to die to a beast? I mean, the guy was a wanker, but tha's not reason 'nuff to kill 'em._

_Can't say wha' the Worgen's fixation on me was, though. Guess it was 'cause I was alive, yeh? He thought I was dead, but I wasn't. It's the thing with Worgen. Ya get bit and ya get infected or you die. There's no middle ground; no change from it. You just 'oped that night ya didn't. Wishful thinkin'._

* * *

**A/N:** I have some issues with this chapter, but nothing too drastic. Does anyone not like gore? :3  
Next chapter should (hopefully!) be up some time next week.  
Ironheart and most of her characters are mine. Copywrite to those who it is otherwise. Warcraft is owned by Blizzard.


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